He Said What?
by ImogenW
Summary: Blaine and Wes stumble across a Mckinley Blog, complete with instructions on how to de-fag your school. Serious interrogation ensues
1. Chapter 1

"Blaine, how much do you know about the new kid?" Wes asked, looking up from his computer screen. Blaine looked up from his maths work, mildly confused.

"You mean Kurt?" he asked, frowning slightly. Wes nodded. "A bit-he's gay, got bullied out of his old school by a closeted homophobe, apparently can sing like Faith Hill…" Wes nodded again. Blaine went back to his maths, although he couldn't concentrate. Kurt had transferred two days ago, but he didn't say why. Sure, the bullying was bad, but he had been so strong. Why did he suddenly snap? Blaine decided it didn't matter. No one should have to go through that, any of that, and Kurt had every right to move.

"What's his surname?" Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Do not Facebook stalk him, Wes," he sighed. Wes snorted.

"I'm not going to, mainly because I have heard you complain many times about him lack of internet usage." Blaine blushed. It was true-he had wanted Kurt to get a Facebook, mainly because he didn't want to waste Kurt's money on texting when Facebook was an option. But Kurt had gone slightly pale, shook his head, and muttered something about 'Not a necessary thing…" Blaine had left the subject. He didn't like seeing Kurt upset, but it had confused him a little over the weeks.

"Good."

"I'm googling him." Blaine snapped his book shut.

"Wes!" The Chinese boy smirked.

"I want to see if there are any videos of him on youtube. I need to know his range if he wants to join," he explained. Blaine sighed, and went to have a shower. Kurt was going to come over to help Blaine with his French in half an hour, and he wanted to look refreshed. Blaine bit his lip. Why the hell did he care? It was ridiculous.

Wes, on the other hand, craftily googled the new kid, searching New Directions, then getting a list.

One upside was that he got to watch their rivals Regionals performance. And he had to admit, it got him a little worried. New Directions were strong-their vocals were good, although it was always the same midget and lumber-jack singing lead, with the background vocals adding in. He saw Kurt in the background, blending in with the group. But it was their dancing that scared him the most.

There were about four of them-a stunning Latino girl, a blonde stick figure, an Asian boy (Wes nodded in approval) and, surprisingly, Kurt-who moved brilliantly. The rest of the group were good as well, even the beautiful blonde girl who looked like she was about to give birth. Literally. She was probably seven or eight months pregnant, and kept clutching her stomach during the performance.

Their music choice was a little odd-someone must have been a major Journey fan-but they pulled it off. Everyone looked alive, and there was this chemistry between the leads that drew you in. But the most interesting thing was that they were all pretty much doing their own thing. They were working together, but more like separate, coordinated limbs than one.

Wes watched a few more, then searched Kurt Hummel. He was surprised to find that there were about twenty videos on one page, and three playlists down the bottom, all with ten or so videos. Ignoring the playlists, Wes clicked on a video labelled 'Single Ladies'.

When Blaine walked out of the bathroom, hair freshly washed and springy, he was startled to find Wes laughing his head off.

"What's so hilarious?" Kurt walked through the door, startling both the boys. Wes quickly sobered up, but even looking at the younger boy set him off again. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Don't you know how to knock, new kid?" he asked lightly. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"I tried, quite a few times, but apparently nobody heard me," he looked at Wes pointedly. "Has anybody ever told you your laugh sounds like a donkey?" Wes frowned.

"It has been said," he admitted. Blaine smirked, then repeated Kurt's earlier question. Wes bit his lip, looked at Kurt, and started braying again. Blaine sighed, and walked over to Wes' computer, and pressed play.

"All the single ladies, all the single ladies…" Blaine looked over to Kurt, who had turned white.

"Oh, no…" his lower lip trembled. He walked over to Wes' laptop, and tried to slam the laptop shut. Wes' head snapped up.

"Oh, come on, it was hilarious," he whined, pushing the smaller boy's hands out of the way. Wes continued to cackle at the sight of Kurt dancing with two girls to the song, but Blaine looked up at Kurt, who was white and shaking. He stood up and walked over to the bed, trying to calm him down. The song cut off, and was replaced by a boy with a seriously nasal voice.

"And that, my dear viewers, was just a sample of the gay," Jacob Israel smirked. "Go to my blog, in the description below, for more Faggy Moments." And the video cut off. Wes, who had sobered up, turned around to face the two boys. One, who was shaking, almost hyperventilating, and the other, who was staring at him, trying to calm the boy in his arms down. Blaine looked up to Wes, and it was easy to see that pain and anger in his eyes, as well as bewilderment.

"Kurt, what was that?" he asked flatly. Kurt calmed down slightly, and answered, "Didn't you see? It was me showing off how faggy I am." Blaine's jaw clenched.

"I don't mean that," he said. "I mean the comment afterwards." Kurt snorted.

"Just your average cyber-slap," he replied, wiping his eyes. Blaine looked towards Wes worriedly.

"Average? Kurt, that's not normal." Kurt smiled sadly.

"Well, for me, that's a lot better than normal, Blaine," he picked at the quilt he was sitting on, then sat abruptly upright. "Wait, why are we discussing this? You have a French test tomorrow, and you still don't get Imparfait!" Kurt got up to grab his books, but Blaine pulled him back.

"No," he said determinedly. "We are going to talk about this. You told me the bullying was bad, and you told me about Karofsky, but you never actually told me what happened. What about the teachers? Your friends? Why didn't anyone say anything?" Kurt just looked overwhelmed, and Wes cut in smoothly.

"Kurt, you said that that was 'better than normal'," he said, coming and sitting on the ground in front of the other two. "What was normal?" Blaine saw Kurt collect himself, then try to explain flippantly.

"Oh, you know, property defacing, creepy notes and phone calls, locker slams, slushie facials, comments, dumpster dumps, laughing, slurs, the occasional beat up, being banned from boys locker rooms…" Blaine and Wes stared. Kurt continued, "Being locked in a porter-potty, having your stuff stolen, general bullying slash homophobic behaviour…" Blaine snapped.

"How the hell is that normal?" he yelled, getting off the bed. "How the hell did people let that go on for so long?" Again, Wes tried to calm things down.

"What type of notes and phone calls?" he asked. Kurt shrugged, staring worriedly at Blaine, who had frozen in the corner, shaking.

"You know, 'Die, Fag', 'Homo freak', 'Leave before you infect the world with your fagginess'…" Kurt hiccupped, "'Why don't you kill yourself now and save us all the trouble…'" Blaine spun around.

"What?" he cried. "They said that?" Kurt nodded, slightly worried.

"Ever wondered why I don't have Facebook?" he asked. Blaine went white.

"They wrote those things on your wall?" Kurt nodded again. "Shit." Wes frowned.

"What are locker slams?" he asked.

"Um…" Kurt bit his lip. "Pretty much what the sound like. A jock comes up behind you and slams you into the lockers. You should see some of the bruises I got…" he trailed off. Blaine looked like he was about to kill something.

"Slushie Facials?"

"We had a slushie machine at school," Kurt tried to gauge Blaine's reaction, "and the jocks would fill them up and chuck them in your face or your hair or down your shirt as you were walking down the hallways. Sometimes they mega-slushied you, which was when the entire non-glee team threw them onto you at once." Blaine still hadn't moved from the corner.

"Dumpster Dumps?"

"When a group from the football team would pick you up and dump you in one of the trash cans…"

"Occasional beat-up?"

"If I really pissed off the jocks they would give me a bit of a punch up…"

"And let me guess, they only hit you where you couldn't see?" Kurt frowned.

"Why would you think that?" he asked. "They didn't care. Nobody cared. People came and watched, videotaped, took photos of _everything_. I'm pretty sure they're all on Jacob's blog, anyway." Wes stared, and Blaine walked out of the room.

"Blaine…" Kurt stood up, and went after him.

**Don't hate me! More coming soon…**


	2. Chapter 2

**GAH! HOW MANY EMAILS CAN I GET IN AN HOUR? HOLY HELL GUYS YOU ARE AMAZING!**

**Thank you so much! I kind of had a whole lot of boring classes today, so I was able to finish this one as well. Just so you know, Blaine does not know about the death threat. He knows Karofsky kissed Kurt, and that's it.**

**I think David is in Peru for this fic. I think…it hasn't been mentioned yet.**

"Blaine…" Kurt stopped the door slamming, shutting it quietly after he left. "Blaine, where are you going?" He caught up to the dark haired boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. "Blaine!"

"What the hell, Kurt?" Blaine turned, his face red. "What the hell was with that?" Kurt stood, shocked.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" Blaine asked, shaking. Kurt said nothing. "That's not normal, Kurt. People shouldn't get treated like that, no matter what! Gay or straight, black or white, fat or not! That shouldn't be someone's normal!"

"It shouldn't be," Kurt looked away. "You're right, it shouldn't be. But for me, it was. For me, a day when I only had to change once, or when nobody out of Glee talked to me at all, a day when I only came home with one bruise was a good day. A day when I didn't get pee balloons thrown at me, when people didn't write creepy notes on my wall, or when people didn't try to steal and break and deface all of my personal belongings was a blessing. And I took all of that!" Blaine looked up at the younger boy, a slight tear threatening to run out his eye. "I took every little thing, because I knew I was better than them. When you were bullied, did people tell you how 'people only bully because they're jealous of you'?" Blaine nodded. Kurt scoffed. "It's bullshit. Really, what would they have to be jealous of? They don't even know fashion, they think singing's for fags and losers, and they will probably live lives just like they're middle class, religious parents who always told them that being gay was an abomination." Kurt stopped talking abruptly, hearing something from inside Wes' room.

"Wes?" Blaine had heard it too, and walked back into his room. Wes was staring angrily at the screen, and his chair had been kicked across the bed. "Um, Wes?"

Wes looked up from the computer screen, pressed pause on whatever he was watching, and walked over to Kurt.

"Why the hell did you only leave now, Kurt?" he asked, pointing to the computer screen. Kurt looked over, and saw Blaine pressing play. It was a youtube clip- '10 Ways To De-Fag Your School.' Kurt gulped.

"I'm sorry if my family isn't made of money, Wesley!" he snapped, looking worriedly at Blaine.

**No. 1**

Blaine watched the shaky hand-held camera follow a younger Kurt around a corner, being followed by a thick set boy in a lettermans jacket. As they turned a corner, another boy joined in, followed by three more. As Kurt turned to open his locker, one of them yelled out 'Hey, faggot!' and the group threw a colourful mixture of frozen drink onto the smaller boy, who gasped as the cold dripped down his expensive-looking t-shirt. The group hi-fived, and left, only the black boy turning around to say 'And don't even think of changing in the boys' locker room, ladyface!'

The camera zoomed in on Kurt, who was shaking, tears leaking out the corner of his eyes, as he pulled out a duffel bag and headed into the ladies bathroom.

Blaine turned to stare at Kurt, glaring. Kurt shrugged, trying to look flippant.

"That was a slushie facial," he said, looking away. Wes looked at Blaine worriedly.

"Blaine…"

"No, Wes!" Blaine turned to Kurt again. "There were dozens of people walking past-and I saw teachers! Why did no one stop them? Or help you?" Kurt shrugged.

"That's what happens when you're gay, Wesley," he deadpanned. "No big deal."

"Kurt-" Wes started, but the Blaine had pressed play on the video.

**No. 2**

The footage was taken from a distance, in the parking lot, where Kurt was surrounded by a group of jocks, next to a dumpster. Kurt had was frowning at them, spitting out words and clutching his bag close to him. The jocks were laughing at the shaking boy, until a tall boy-_Finn? _Blaine thought, confused-held out his hand, and Kurt sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes and handing him the bag. Finn nodded to the other boys, and they lifted the small boy up and into the dumpster, dumping him unceremoniously in the half filled trash. The all laughed, slapped each other on the back, and slammed the lid shut.

Blaine noticed, suddenly, that Karofsky was in the group. But he didn't look happy at all. He kept looking back towards the dumpster.

Kurt waited a minute, then lifted the lid slowly and jumped out gracefully, grabbing his bag down a tree, and walked off towards school

"That was a dumpster dump," Kurt explained to the back of the boys' heads.

"You don't say…"

**No. 3**

"Yo, Fag!" _Slam_.

"Fairy boy!" _Crack!_

"Ladyface!" Kurt's face slammed into an open locker, leaving a cut along one side.

"Faggot! Oi, Faggot!" Kurt turned, just in time for Karofsky to shove him into a locker, leaving Kurt sliding down to the floor, tears running from his eyes.

The video went on for three minutes, a montage of slams and shoves into lockers, both open and closed, normally instigated by Karofsky or a large black guy.

Each shove seemed more and more painful, especially the ones where Kurt cracked his head on an open door. Each clip finished with Kurt sliding down to the floor, either crying or holding a cut.

"Locker Slams?" Blaine asked, his voice restricted. Kurt nodded.

**No. 4**

The camera zoomed in on a locker in a deserted hallway. From a distance, it looked like it had a bruise along one side, but as you got closer, you could see the words 'Die, Fag' in blue spray paint.

"Hummel hasn't seen this yet," a high voice said in the background. "But he'll be here in a moment-"

Sure enough, Kurt walked around the corner a second later, scrolling through his phone absently. He had a small smile on his face, but Blaine could see a faint bruise on his forehead.

Kurt's absent-minded happiness quickly stopped as he lifted his eyes to his locker.

His lower lip wobbled, his cheeks going blotchy. Thinking no one was watching, he lay his head against the cool of his locker, tears falling to the ground.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" a scary female voice asked the cameraman.

"N-no," the camera shook.

"Good," the woman said. "You can scrub that off the locker."

"B-but…it'll never come off…"

"You think this is hard? Try cleaning every step of Notre Dame with your toothbrush, that's hard!"

"Wow…I wondered who cleaned my locker…" Kurt sighed. "I never thought Sue…" Blaine growled.

"Well, at least someone did something," he muttered. "But who wrote that?" Kurt shrugged.

"It was right after the locker room thing, so probably Karofsky, although I doubt he knows how to spell…" Wes looked up.

"Locker room thing?" Blaine turned to look at Kurt expectantly. Kurt shook his head.

"Just another incident…but it hurt a lot more this time…" Wes looked at Blaine, who sighed.

"Kurt…" the younger boy glared at Blaine.

"Blaine, no. I am not going through this again. It was hard enough telling you, and now, now I can't tell anyone else. If you want help with your French, I'll be in my room-"

"What do you mean, _can't_?" Blaine asked, suddenly. Kurt paled.

"Nothing. I meant nothing. I just don't want-"

"Okay, what the _hell_ is going on?" Wes asked, impatient. Kurt glared at Blaine.

"Blaine, I know the minute I leave the room, you're going to tell him, so go ahead," Kurt waved. "But I'm leaving. Watch the videos, do whatever, but do not expect me to tell you everything in the future."

And Kurt left, slamming the door.

There was a pregnant pause, broken when Wes coughed.

"So…" Wes asked. "Care to tell me what the _hell_ is going on?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Yippeeeee! Turning point for Klaine/Wavid/Bles/Kes/Davurt/Blavid**

**Pretty much, a turning point for the Weklainavid group in general**

**Plus, an OC!**

**PS he's a douche**

**PPS if I owned glee, I would be on glee. And I'm not. So…**

"Oh-sorry," Simon Kaehne jumped, having accidently bumped into a figure rushing past him. "Kurt?"

"Yes, Simon?" Kurt turned around, hands on his hips, preparing to rip into him, but softened when he saw the older boy's expression.

"Are you okay?" Simon asked, taking in the younger boy's blotchy cheeks and slightly teary eyes. Kurt snorted.

"Fabulous," he rolled his eyes, preparing to spin on his heel. Simon grabbed his arm, but wasn't prepared for Kurt to jump back as fast as possible, paling. Simon stepped back, hands up.

"Hey, sorry," he apologised, slightly confused. "Is everything alright? You look kind of…"

"Pissed off?" Kurt supplied. Simon nodded. "That's probably because I am. It's what happens when the one person you trusted with certain information decides that he should go and tell everybody about it."

"Blaine?" Simon guessed. Kurt nodded. "Will you be okay? Do you want some company, or something?" he stepped forward, brushing some hair absently out of the younger boy's stunning eyes. Kurt's breath hitched, and he stepped back.

"_Stay away from Simon," Blaine muttered as they left the Warblers. "He likes to cause trouble, and he doesn't take no for an answer."_

"_You don't like him?" Kurt asked. He had found nothing unlikeable about the blonde senior when they had spoken earlier. "He was perfectly-"_

"_Smooth," Blaine cut in. "He's very smooth, and very persuasive. Coffee?"_

"Simon…" he cautioned, glaring into the bright green eyes. "I'm not sure…" Simon raised his eyebrows.

"What?" he asked. "You look like you need a friend. Someone who knows how to deal with being in love with a guy who loves overruling everything you say." Kurt's eyebrows shot up.

"You're gay?"

"Capital G," Simon laughed, flicking his blonde hair away. "I'm surprised you didn't realise."

"There aren't really all that many conversations one can have about couture when you have to wear uniforms," Kurt observed drily. Simon laughed, stepped forward and put in arm around Kurt's shoulders, leading him towards his room.

"Well, we have a lot to talk about then!"

"Blaine?"

"_Hey, faggot!_"

*slam*

"_Do my French work _properly_, next time, lady!"_

*slam*

"_Oi, fairy!_"

*splash*

"Blaine?"

"_Hey, guys! Look at this!"_

"_Give that back!"_

"_Why? Is it from your_ boyfriend_?"_

"_Give me my phone, imbeciles."_

"_What did you call us?"_

"_Az, look at this!"_

"'Courage_'? Who the hell says 'Courage'?"_

"_Probably his little faggy boyfriend."_

"BLAINE!" Wes shouted. Blaine snapped out of it, clicking pause on the video.

"Yes, Wes?" he asked, incredibly politely.

"Want to explain anything?" Blaine bit his lip.

"Yes," he said slowly. "But I don't know how…It's not my place, for one, and I don't want to make Kurt angry." Wes put a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "He's talked about it, and he's getting better. He was hurt, but now he's good."

"He's not alright, Blaine," Wes scoffed. "He flinches at the slightest thing, he doesn't like people touching him, every time he says something interesting he looks like he thinks we're going to punch him. That's not better. Or," he smiled ruefully, "he must have been really bad before."

"It was bad," Blaine clarified. "Really bad…but he said he was okay. He promised me. And he was acting better…smiling, laughing, making silly jokes…"

"I don't doubt that he's _better_, Blaine," Wes sighed. "He's just not alright. He's strong, Blaine, but he's not that strong." Blaine's head shot up, determination on his face.

"Karofsky kissed him." Wes froze.

"Who is Karof…"

"Karofsky. The main guy that was pushing him into lockers and stuff."

"He's gay?" Blaine shrugged.

"I think…I think that's what he was trying to figure out," he sighed, trying to act careless, although failing. His shoulders were bunched up, he was picking at his blazer and running his hands through his ever-gelled hair.

"And so Kurt…left?" Wes asked, putting the pieces together. "Because Karof-what's-his-name kissed him?"

"_Yes_," Blaine sighed, turning back to the computer.

"_Hey fag!"_

*bang*

"So, make yourself at home," Simon gestured around his room, walking towards the mini-fridges all seniors had. Kurt stepped through the doors, nodding approvingly at the décor-baby blue and rich brown. Cool but inviting. "Drink?"

"Sure," Kurt nodded. "What do you have?" Simon grinned.

"Sprite, Creaming Soda…"

"Creaming Soda," Kurt smiled wanly, sitting down on the baby blue bed. Simon snorted, and Kurt frowned. Simon was acting…slightly creepy. He kept looking back at him, smirking, then turning back to his drinks. Surely it wouldn't take _that_ long to get a fizzy drink out.

"Here you go," Simon turned, handing the younger boy a glass of fizzing pink drink. He sat down, much to close for Kurt's comfort, and put a hand on his knee. "What's up?" Kurt took a sip.

"What's in this?" he spat in distaste, only avoiding the question slightly. "It tastes like-"

"Vodka," Simone smirked, then looked at Kurt's agape face. "What?" he shrugged. "You looked like you needed some." Kurt grimaced.

"Thanks," he sighed, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. "But this is disgusting…"

"It's an acquired taste," Simon admitted, throwing his head back as he drank another shot. Kurt looked at his drink, and slumped his shoulders in defeat. He threw the drink into his mouth and skulled it, ignoring the burn.

"How did you get it?" he gasped. "It's not allowed, is it?" Simon grinned.

"I'm eighteen," he replied. "It's legal. I smuggled it in in my shoes." Kurt snorted.

"They don't check? They checked me."

"My dad is an alumni, I'm on the honours board," he shrugged. "You put the pieces together." Kurt took another sip, and slowly began to feel that fuzzy feeling he got on the rare occasions he drank.

"You are such a lightweight," Simon laughed, sitting close and putting a hand on the younger boy's knee. "It's cute." Kurt grinned.

"You think I'm cute?"

"I certainly do,"

"Blaine, I think there's something more," Wes sighed after about ten minutes of watching non-stop bullying. It was almost like a horror movie, except worse. "Something worse."

"Worse?" Blaine laughed, a cold hard cough. "What could be _worse _than all of this?" Wes could see that he was treading on thin ice.

"I just think…he went through all of _that_ with so much strength," he said softly, "so why did he suddenly leave? He waited three weeks before he left. And why did his dad go all crazy? You said that Kurt didn't tell anyone else about the kiss, so that wasn't it." Blaine paused, then his face darkened.

"He's keeping something from me, isn't he?" he asked, an odd finality in his voice. "There's another thing, and he won't tell me what it is because he doesn't _trust_ me." He stood up, slamming the computer shut, and walked out the door.

"Ah, shit," Wes muttered, following him closely.

"He kissed you?" Simon asked in disbelief. Kurt nodded, albeit not with very much control.

"Yesh," he said, tears running down his face. "He kishe'me an' he 'ook my firsht kish fromme an' now it's gone…" he took another drink, and Simon quirked one eyebrow.

"Your first kiss?" he asked. "Seriously?"

"Uhuh," he said, then cocked his head. "Well, the firsht one tha' counned…with a _boy_," he explained. The room was tilting, and although it had been fun at first, now Kurt was feeling kind of sea sick.

"That must've sucked…" Simon patted the younger boy's knee. Kurt nodded vigorously.

"Yeah," he wiped a tear from his eye. "Bu' then Blaine came over like a knigh' in shining armour…or blasher…an' tried to tal' a Karofshky, but the' Karofshky pushed 'im in oo a fenshe, and it was all my fault…" He was openly crying now, but Simon wasn't doing anything to stop it. He was too busy staring at the counter tenor's lips.

"Have you kissed anyone since then?" he asked, catching Kurt off guard.

"Noooooo," he shook his head. "No one at all…"

"Hmmm," Simon kept staring, then leant down, and pressed his lips against Kurt's.

"Hey, have you see Kurt?" Wes asked James, Kurt's roommate. James shook his head.

"No, sorry," he replied, going back to his homework. "But have you tried Blaine's room?" Wes rolled his eyes.

"Yes, James, I have," he groaned. "No monkey gay sex going on there." James snorted.

"It's taking them long enough," he smirked. Wes glared at the sophomore, and slammed the door on the way out.

"Has James seen him?" Blaine asked Wes as he came out of Kurt's room. Wes shook his head.

"Not a sign." Blaine bit his lip nervously.

"Do you think he's okay? He seemed pretty mad…"

"He'll be fine, Blaine," Wes sighed.

"Are you guys talking about Hummell?" Jackson Senthil asked, pausing as he walked by them. Blaine's head shot up.

"Yes-have you seen him?" he asked, suddenly very interesting in a boy he had never spoken to in his life. Jackson nodded.

"He was talking to Simon-"

"Kaehne?" Wes asked, confused. Jackson nodded.

"Yeah, I think he went to his room." Blaine's eyes darkened, and he stormed off. Wes paused before following, muttering a 'thanks'.

"Simon…" Kurt muttered from underneath the senior's lips. Simon took the opportunity to push his tongue into the other boy's mouth, pulling him off the bed. Kurt let him push in deeper. _This isn't so bad_, he thought. He could almost imagine the blonde hair was dark, thick and curly, and the green eyes weren't all that different to the hazel ones he loved so much. Simon's mouth opened wider, going deeper, taking a step towards the wall, hands everywhere. In his hair, under his t-shirt. And then it hit him.

He didn't want this.

He couldn't pretend Simon was Blaine. Because Blaine would never do this. Blaine would never force himself like this. Blaine would wait for Kurt to be happy. Blaine would complement Kurt on something, take a deep breath, and give him this speech about how he had been looking for someone like Kurt forever, and then-_hesitantly, _waiting to make sure it was okay-he would lean in, place his lips on his, and wait for permission. Wait for Kurt to reciprocate, _then_ deepen the kiss. He would lean back, embarrassed, nervous, scared that Kurt hadn't wanted him, that he had read the signs wrong, and make a silly little change of topic, and Kurt would look at him, slightly shocked, and then make a funny comment, and they would kiss again.

Blaine would never, _ever_, get him drunk. But, Kurt knew, that Blaine would never kiss him, either. Because Blaine didn't like him that way. And he was mad at Kurt, anyway. Because Kurt had yelled at him, and hadn't told him the full story. He hadn't told anyone at Dalton about the threat.

During this little inner monologue, Simon had somehow gotten Kurt's blazer off, and taking a few more steps towards the wall. All Kurt could see was red, and all he could taste was _Simon_. Vodka, coke and peppermint. And it was possibly one of the most disgusting things he had ever tasted. It wasn't coffee and spearmint, like Blaine. Or what Blaine smelled like.

They hit the wall, and suddenly Kurt felt scared. He started to struggle, but he wasn't strong enough. Opening his eyes, he was met with bright green. Kurt stared. Slowly, they morphed into brown. Not a warm brown, but a mud-like colour, squinty and vicious. Kurt pushed back, tears streaming down his face.

_I'll kill you._

No, no, no…he was Blaine's. He wasn't Karofsky's. Or Simon's. Even if Blaine wasn't his, he was Blaine's.

_I'll kill you. _

"Stop…" he tried to speak, but it was hard when someone's tongue was in your mouth.

"Come on, sweet heart," Simon whispered. "Let go. You know you want it."

"Why was he talking to Simon?" Blaine yelled, almost running down the hall. "I told him to avoid him…I told him…" Wes hurried to catch up.

"Blaine, they were probably just talking," he tried to soothe the soloist, but to no avail.

"If he's been even _slightly_ rude, then I am going to-" he swung open the door to Simon's room.

"Kurt?"

**Gotta love cliffies**

**Reviews are love **


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